


Dead on the Diamond

by TalkingIsJustAWasteOfBreath



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Swearing, baseball AU, bc kyoutani is a little bitch, expect angst and angry makeouts in the baseball dugout, i just love kyouhaba a lot ok and i want to see how they would be as a battery, o boy this ones gonna be a doozy, this is why i cant have nice things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-10-08 05:33:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10379604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalkingIsJustAWasteOfBreath/pseuds/TalkingIsJustAWasteOfBreath
Summary: Yahaba needs a pitcher. Badly.He'll be damned if he dosn't leave the Seijoh Baseball Team in worse shape than Oikawa left it in, but the problem is once one Kyoutani Kentarou shows up with a killer fastball and a snarl that makes Yahaba want to punch him in the face, Yahaba dosn't know what to do. He can pitch, sure, but if they both hate each other's guts, how are they supposed to form a battery strong enough to beat the freak duo of Karasuno?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> dear lord what have i done
> 
> my knowlage of baseball comes purely from oofuri (which you should all watch!!) and i watched that last summer so. uh. im sorry if my baseball knowlage is a little dated. i had to look up a bunch of diffrent types of pitches for this chapter but idk if ill b motivated enough to look up anymore baseball stuff more complicated than that.
> 
> enjoy!

“I hate baseball.”

“Yahaba,” Watari sighs, “We’re playing baseball.”

Yahaba pouts and catches the baseball Watari tosses to him with a satisfying _thump_ in his catchers mitt.

It wasn’t true, of course. Yahaba had been playing baseball since he was 5 years old and could barely knock the ball off the tee it was balanced on; he would have quit prior to his high school years if he actually hated it. As of the moment though, Yahaba was seriously reconsidering his position as the new captain of the team and as the starting catcher.

Last year had been fine- they’d had a killer battery with Oikawa and Iwazumi (Iwazumi hadn’t been too shabby as a cleanup hitter either) and Makki and Mattsun had been outstanding outfielders. Oikawa was an easy captain, and though the Summer Cup had been stolen from them by Karasuno in semi-finals, it had still been a good year. Good enough for a teary graduation ceremony. Good enough for Oikawa to appoint him as the next captain for next year’s team and ruffle Yahaba’s hair before walking off into the cherry blossoms with Iwazumi. Good enough, until the pitcher he’d slowly been building up a battery with over the last two years ‘unexpectedly’ moved to America (Shinju had always been a bit of a bitch anyways, as Watari kept reminding him) stranding him without a good pitcher, much less an adequate one. And yeah, okay, Kunimi wasn’ t _that_ bad, but he and Yahaba really,really didn’t have the compatibility to become a decent battery. So here he was, two weeks from the first practice game of the season and he still didn’t have an actual pitcher.

Which meant the team was pretty much fucked for the time being, and damn it all if Yahaba didn’t leave the team in worse shape than when Oikawa gave it to him.

Yahaba tossed the ball back to Watari and grinds his teeth together out of annoyance. “I hate baseball right now. What the hell are we supposed to do without a pitcher when we have a game in two weeks and outfield is still struggling to catch the easy hits Kidaichi keeps sending them? And that’s not even mentioning the fact that the screwy prodigy battery from Karasuno is going to be center plate this year.” Watari catches the ball easily and gives Yahaba a _look_.

“Things will work out. Someone will come along- there must be someone at this school that used to pitch in middle school and just never got the memo that this club existed, right? You know how badly the activates department is with getting the word out that some sports even exist at this school…”

Yahaba shrugged, still gritting his teeth a bit, and glanced at the sky. The sunset was slowly turning from pink to orange, and in about 20 minutes or so, it would be dark.

Watari tossed the ball back to him and they silently began to walk towards the bike rack outside the baseball diamond. They usually stayed a little late to talk things through, Watari being vice-captain and all, and tonight Yahaba was grateful for the second point of view. He was probably right, anyway. A pitcher would turn up at some point. Hopefully. Yahaba thinks that Watari’s optimism might be a little misplaced as he watches him pedal away.

If only Shinju hadn’t left him out to dry. They’d had a good battery, with a killer curve ball and flawless fork pitch, and even though Iwazumi and Oikawa had dominated the plate last year, when they had the chance to pitch games, they weren’t too bad…

Yahaba hopes a pitcher will show up soon. He doesn’t want Seijoh’s first practice game to be an embarssment.

~

As it happens, Yahaba finds a pitcher the very next day.

It dosn’t go very well.

He and Watari stumble across a certain Kyoutani Kentarou pitching a tennis ball at the wall as hard as he can and someone managing to catch the ball every time it rebounds despite the fact that tennis ball are a hell of a lot lighter than baseballs and really don’t do well being throw full speed at a wall.

Yahaba sort of knows who Kyoutani is- he’s seen him in passing of course, and someone with bleached hair, an eyeliner problem and the demeaner of a feral dog is a little hard to forget, because Seijoh really isn’t the sort of school that attracts punks and/or future Yakuza members, and Kyoutani was a walking stereotype.

He and Watari almost pass Kyoutani by, until Yahaba notices that has not just chucking the ball at the wall for the hell of it and is holding the ball like has pitching a forkball, just not winding up and following through all the way. It stops Yahaba dead in his tracks and for a second all he can think is _pitcher jesus fuck he’s a pitcher-_ before he notices Kyoutani has stopped pitching and is now looking at him with a snarl on his face, squeezing the tennis ball in his fist.

“I-“Yahaba fumbles under his sharp gaze. “Sorry, I just- were you pitching?”

“What the fuck does it look like I’m doing?”

 _Rude_. Yahaba clenches his jaw. “I was just asking.”

Kyoutani snorts and throws another forkball at the wall.

“Wait a sec,” Watari furrows his brow. “Aren’t you on the tennis team or something?”

“I was.” This time he throws what Yahaba thinks is supposed to be a two-seam fastball, buts it’s hard to tell on a tennis ball. “But I got kicked off for shanking a kid in the face with a racket. _Made made dane_ my ass.”

Yahaba doesn’t know what that’s supposed to mean, but even though Kyoutani is an asshole, his pitches aren’t bad. At all. And he keeps hitting the same spot, about the same place Yahaba would be if he was catching for him. Why hadn’t he just joined baseball in the first place, if his pitches were that decent?

“Could you-“ Kyoutani stops pitching and narrows his eyes at Yahaba. God, this guy was really looking for a punch in the face, wasn’t he?

“Could you come with us for a sec? So, we can see you pitch?”

“Why should I?”

“We’re from the baseball club,” Watari says, stepping a little closer to Kyoutani. Yahaba wonders if he has a death wish. “And we, uh, really need a pitcher.”

Kyoutani throws another forkball at the wall, like he’s considering the offer.

“Fine. Whatever.”

A couple minutes later, Yahaba is standing in front of Kyoutani on the pitcher’s mound, his catcher’s glove slotted neatly into his right hand and the midafternoon sun shining directly into his eyes, making him squint testily up at Kyoutani, who now held a baseball in his hand instead of a tennis ball and was still sort of snarling at Yahaba.

“Right. What kind of pitches do you have?”

Kyoutani rolls his thumb over the red stitching of the baseball. “Two and four-seam fastball, forkball, and a curveball.”

No changeup balls, but three fast pitches? Yahaba rolled his eyes. “Flashy.”

“What’s it to you, pretty boy?”

Yahaba grits his teeth. “What the fuck did you just call me?”

Kyoutani digs his thumbnail into the seam of the ball. “Nothing, _asshole_.”

Yahaba is tempted to sock Kyoutani in the face and it takes him a lot of self-control to turn around and walk away from the pitcher’s mound. _He could be your pitcher_ , he reminds himself. _And good catchers don’t punch their pitchers in the mouth, however tempting it may be._

Yahaba reaches home plate and slowly crouches into catcher’s positon, tugging his face mask over his head and holding his glove steadily in front of him. He’s going to call the pitches for now, because teaching Kyoutani his set of hand signals would take too long and be a waste of time if he turns out to be a shitty pitcher. Yahaba decides to try out his forkball first, see how under control Kyoutani has it, and he calls for a pitch down the middle.

 _Smack._ Yahaba barley has time to even look at Kyoutani’s windup before the ball smacks into his glove with way more force than a normal forkball. It felt…powerful. He’d barely had to move his glove to catch the ball.

Yahaba calls for the next pitch again. Kyoutani winds up again so fast Yahaba can barely see it and then the glove smacks into his hand again with an insane amount of force.

His pitches feel like fireballs; fast, unpredictable, and burning. They felt a little like Iwazumi’s pitches, when Yahaba had the chance to catch them, but Iwazumi’s had a controlled kind of power to his throws. Kyoutani’s power was raw, uncontained and fucking terrifying to be on the receiving end of.

“What the hell,” Yahaba spits, “Is that how hard you pitch every time?”

Kyoutani scowls. “Yeah. You got a problem with that, pretty boy?”

Yahaba bites down on his tongue, hard.

He calls for the rest of Kyoutani’s pitches, wincing a bit as he catches the four-seam fastball. The amount of force behind it stings, even though his glove, and after a couple more rounds of pitches he finally takes his glove off and stalks towards the pitcher’s mound, arms crossed testily over his chest.

“So,” he begins, glaring at Kyoutani.

“So”, Kyoutani answers, glaring back.

“Well,” Yahaba snaps, “Are you going to join the team or not?”

Kyoutani regards him testily. “Who said I was joining?”

“ _What?_ I just caught your pitches for an hour!”

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to join your stupid club.”

Yahaba thinks he sees a flicker of regret in Kyoutani’s eyes when he says it, but he’s too mad to think before he yells _“Fine_.” And shoves past Kyoutani, making sure to elbow him in the side as he passes by him. “Go back to throwing tennis balls against the wall, fucker. See if I care.”

He doesn’t look back at Kyoutani as he stalks off the field. Yahaba is too frustrated with himself and with the asshole of a pitcher he’d finally managed to find to care that his glove is still sitting on home plate. He can come back later to pick it up once Kyoutani leaves. No big deal.

Only when he does come back to the baseball diamond later that night, the glove is gone.

It isn’t until Kyoutani shows up to practice the next day with a scowl on his face and Yahaba’s glove in his hand that he sees it again.

He tries not to flush with embarrassment when Kyoutani shoves it into his hand and stays until the end of practice that day, but Yahaba still feels his cheeks heat up every time he turns his head to see Kyoutani practicing pitches on a net coach had set up for him once he announced he was joining the team.

And to think, he was going to have to form a battery with this guy.

Shit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shows up two weeks late with a starbucks*
> 
> sup y'all
> 
> i blame my ap classes and inabilty to never have less than two extracuriculars going on at one time
> 
> enjoy!

“You know, I have a friend on the tennis team.”

“Oh?” Yahaba snatches the baseball Watari throws him from the air with his bare hands. He didn’t feel like using his gloves today.

“Yeah. I asked ‘im about Kyoutani. He said they used to call him ‘Mad Dog’ because of his temper and his tendency to throw rackets when his opponent would call balls he disagreed with.”

Yahaba snickers behind his hand and whips the ball back to Watari. “Not hard to picture, is it?”

Kyoutani had such a hairpin temper, it was hard to imagine him _not_ getting testy with anyone he disagreed with- Yahaba thought back to practice today, when Yahaba had insisted on trying to teach him changeup pitches for an hour, and Kyoutani had almost walked off the mound.

_“You can’t just exclusively throw fastballs, dumbass. You’ll fuck your arm up 60 pitches into the game because you don’t seem to know the meaning of the world ‘self-control’”_

Kyoutani had sneered at him, the eyeliner around the corners of his eyes slightly smudged from the heat.

_“Whatever you say, pretty boy, as if I give a fuck about what you think- “_

_“What the hell is your problem? Its common fucking sense not to throw your hardest pitch every time someone’s up to bat- “_

_“You’ve never even seen me pitch in a game before, shithead-_

Yahaba snaps out of the memory in time to catch the ball Watari throws him.

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“Out of _everyone_ in this damn school that just _happens_ to pitch a baseball, it had to be him.”

Watari gives him a confused look. “I don’t see what the problem is here.”

Yahaba digs his nails into the leather of the baseball and give Watari an infuriated look.

“What do you mean, _you don’t see a fucking problem?”_

Watari shrugs. “I mean…he’s not a bad pitcher, right? And you’re sure as hell not a shitty catcher either? And despite the fact that you two have some very _obvious_ sexual tension you need to work out between the two of you, your chemistry as a battery is actually better than what I think you had with Shinji to be honest- “

Yahaba sputters, still caught up on the words _sexual tension_. “Wait, do you mean by-“

Watari pretends like he doesn’t hear him. “And I feel like once you’ve spent more time around each other, you’ll get more used to the fact that you’re so similar in different ways, you know? Your both kind of angry assholes with an ego the size of a funhouse, and once you get around that, you’ll be able to work together just fine! Maybe even well enough to give that freak battery from Karasuno a run for their money, but with that kind of talent, you never know…”

They go home a little while after that, around sunset, as always, and Yahaba decides to put aside the ‘sexual tension’ comment for now. He can worry about that after they play their first practice game or whatever.

~

The next day when Yahaba shows up to practice, Coach has Kyoutani in a headlock and a very despicable grin on her face.

“Oh no,” Yahaba says.

“Oh _yes_ ,” Coach says with a gleam in her eye. Kyoutani squirms in her grip. It’s a futile attempt, and Yahaba spots a vein in Kyoutani’s forehead beginning to pop. They make eye contact and Yahaba tries really hard not to think the word _sexual tension_ but he does anyway, and looks away quickly, a little red.

“You two,” she ruffles what little hair Kyoutani has on his scalp, “Are going to be doing a little exhibition in front of the team today! Throw a few pitches, have our cleanup hitters try and hit a few balls, get all set up for our practice game later this week!”

She says it in an incredibly forced tone that made it clear Yahaba and Kyoutani were to not ask questions and get to work right away or _so help me god I will kill the both of you_ , so when she releases Kyoutani, he and Yahaba walk to the diamond in silence.

It shouldn’t make him nervous; Yahaba knows that there’s nothing to be worried about in terms of skill when it comes to Kyoutani and their battery and that’s what really mattered in the long run (and in the little show they were supposed to put on for the team today). But there’s still the fact that Kyoutani makes him really, really _pissed_ for almost no reason at all, and Yahaba feels like if that comes across in practice today it might give everyone the wrong idea- like yeah, sure, our battery can pitch, but will they start yelling at each other like that in the middle of a game?

Before he heads off to home plate, Yahaba grabs the front of Kyoutani’s shirt and pulls them close together (totally ignoring the sprinkling of freckles across his nose that suddenly didn’t make him seem so intimidating).

“I don’t want to look like a fuckup in front of the entire team,” Yahaba spits through his clenches teeth, “So keep your fucking temper under control. Got it?”

Kyoutani curls his lip up, eyeliner once again smudged a bit from the heat, and fucking _growls_ at Yahaba. “I think that’s more _your_ problem, pretty boy. You better not fuck this up for me too.”

Yahaba is about to reply when Kyoutani twists out of his grasp and stalks off towards home plate, leaving Yahaba standing there with a clenched fist and a sudden urge to punch something hard.

They do a few warmup pitches before getting into it- Yahaba almost doesn’t notice that the rest of the team is watching them curiously, with Coach looking on proudly when they begin to really pitch, Yahaba signing what he wanted Kyoutani to pitch next and Kyoutani responding with so much force Yahaba’s hand still stung every damn time he caught the ball. Yahaba cycled through Kyoutani’s different pitches twice and made him pitch the changeup ball they had been working on all yesterday a couple times.

It was going well. Like, really _really_ well and the moment Yahaba thinks it he jinxes it and the changeup ball Kyoutani had just thrown veers off course and smacks into his shoulder, just bouncing off th edge of his catchers gear and hitting him square in the shoulder.

_Ouch._

Changeup pitches were slower than fast pitches but that was a still a ball that was coming at him at _60 fucking miles an hour and oh god now was not the time to be losing his fucking temper._

Bruising, yeah, there’s no way he would walk away from that without something resembling a seriously intense hickey (oh god it’s going to look like he tried to make out with a vacuum-) but nothing broken. Probably. Most like. Yahaba slips his catcher’s mask off and clutches at his shoulder, biting his lip to keep from hissing in pain.

Suddenly Kyoutani is right in front of him, looking…concerned? And for a second Yahaba thinks he’s imagined the furrow in Kyoutani’s brow, but his view is blocked by Coach asking if he’s ok and a bunch of other players crowding him and honestly all Yahaba can think about is letting Kyoutani know that it’s really not bad and he didn’t break anything and the bruise will fade in like, a week _and it wasn’t his fault it was a new pitch and Yahaba had been surprised that he hadn’t gotten bruised by it not quite going where he wanted too, pitches are hard to master-_

Yahaba stands and pushes past everyone, offhandedly commenting to Coach that yeah, he’s fine, don’t worry about me- he spots Kyoutani stalking away from the field and isn’t really thinking because Yahaba starts to fucking sprint towards him. Yahaba catches him at the very edge of the diamond.

The first thing he notices about Kyoutani is, once again, his smudged eyeliner (seriously, waterproof wasn’t that much more expensive than normal eyeliner, right?). He looks angry, but still has that concerned furrow in his brow, and looked supremely confused as to why Yahaba had followed him.

“You didn’t have to…run away. I’m not, um, mad…or…anything.”

Kyoutani frowns at him. Yahaba tries again.

“It’s a new pitch. It’s not supposed to be perfect right away. It’s just a bruise too, and that’ll fade after a while…”

Yahaba lets the sentence drop awkwardly and Kyoutani makes a point to look away from him, cheeks slightly red.

“Ok…” he mumbles. “Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

For some reason, the insult this time had less of a bite and more of something…else to it.

Yahaba decided to file that away under the same place he had decided to put the _sexual tension_ comment in the file box labeled _to deal with later_ and walked back to the pitcher’s mound in a sort of silence.

After the practice game, he decided. He would deal with it after the practice game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if this chapter is a little slow! next chapter should be a little more intresting- i am VERY excited to write the practice game and the 'freak duo' of a battery that kyouhaba gets to battle next
> 
> if you'd like to yell about gay anime and/or BTS my tumblr and twitter are both @mysenpaiisdead


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWO MONTHS WITHOUT UPLOADING SHE COMES BACK WITH A CHAPTER
> 
> so....  
> yeah...  
> sorry about not uploading for two months!  
> i have had a hellish two months thats made writing really hard to fit into my schedual (almost failing a math class, the ap test, friend drama, perfecting and performing a musical, to name a few) but now that summer is here i should be on track for finishing this fic! updates will hopefully be more consistant ^^

It's the night before their first practice game, and Yahaba is freaking out a bit.

 

“ _ What?? _ Why the fuck didn’t you tell us we would be playing Karasuno earlier?”

 

Coach raises her eyebrow at him and Kyoutani, in a clear indication that they were not to question her decisions. “I didn’t want to stress you guys out with the pressure of the freak battery during your practice time. You two needed to be able to form a battery without having to worry about what kind of pitcher-catcher combo you’d have to battle. Be glad I at least told you tonight, to let you two think about what you want to do, instead of tomorrow morning like the rest of the team.”

 

Yahaba glanced over at Kyoutani. He didn’t look particularly pissed off that coach had decided to let them know they were basically playing their biggest rival besides Shiratorizawa the night before their game, but then again, he’d never seen the freak battery in action. Yahaba clenched his teeth and focused his attention back to Coach.

 

“Feel free to stay here as long as you like to think things over, but I want the both of you to get a solid 7 hours before the game tomorrow. No staying up until 1am thinking over game strategies like your old Senpai, Yahaba. I hope he hasn’t passed that bad habit on to you, has he?”

 

_ Oikawa _ . Yahaba shook his head and mumbled ‘no ma'am’ under his breath. He knew better than to repeat Oikawa’s mistakes.

 

“Good. I’ll see you two here bright and early for warm ups and a little team meeting, figure out what we want to do with ourselves against those crows.”

 

Yahaba and Kyoutani both mumbled goodnight as they watched Coach walk into the fading light.

 

“Why does everyone have their panties in a twist about Karasuno, anyway,” Kyoutani said under his breath, leaning against the cinder blocks that made up the dugout wall. The evening light was angled against his face in an odd way, lighting up Kyoutani’s small freckles and making his smudged eyeliner glow. Yahaba decided to lean next to Kyoutani so he wouldn’t have to look at his face while he talked.

 

“We almost got our ass handed to them the first time we played them and they ended up beating us in the semi-finals of the Summer Cup last year. Came completely out of left field. My first year they weren’t serious competition by any means- they had like, one really really good cleanup hitter and that was it. But last year they got this new first year battery that was crazy good- the catcher went to Oikawa’s old middle school and was apparently some sort of prodigy and the pitcher was just-”

 

Yahaba wiggled his fingers. It was hard to describe the way Hinata pitched.

 

“You’ll see tomorrow. Anyway, they had that one good battery and suddenly everything on the team seemed to pull together. They got  _ good _ . Really fucking good and we’re all still a little sore from that loss last year.”

Yahaba let his words drop off into silence, the whine of the crickets surrounding him suddenly seeming much too loud. He noticed that Kyoutani’s arm was brushing his a bit and Kyoutani hadn’t moved away from him at all.

 

_ After the practice game Yahaba, remember. After the practice game. _

 

“We’ll be fine,” Kyoutani grumbled, “We’ve got a good team. You're a good captain.”

 

Yahaba started to reply with, ‘yeah, I guess,’ but then realized what Kyoutani had said. 

 

“Wait, did you just call me a good captain?”

 

Kyoutani turned a ridiculous shade of red. “I did not you fucking prick-”

 

Yahaba smiled. “Oh yes you  _ did _ , you dumbass-”

 

Kyoutani socked Yahaba in the shoulder, but in a way that was more playful than actually meaning harm. “You must be hearing things, pretty boy.”

 

Yahaba glanced one more time at the way Kyoutani face seemed to light up in the sunset. 

 

“Whatever you say, Mad Dog.”

 

~

 

Though Yahaba was still a little mad that coach hadn’t told them about playing Karasuno until the night before the game, seeing the look on everyone's faces when Coach told them in the morning made it almost worth it. 

 

Kindaichi turned green and almost fell on top of Kunimi, whose eyes were so big they resembled golf balls. Watari looked a little sick and confused, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Even most of the first years had gotten gleam of the words ‘freak battery of Karasuno’ once or twice and looked a little worried. 

 

“S-s-sorry Coach, but, uh, “ Watari raised his hand and looked around at the rest of the team, that was in various states of disarray,

 

“Couldn’t you have told us we were playing against Karasuno, like, a week ago??”

  
Coach shrugged. “I didn’t want you guys to be stressed out during practice with the losses of last season hanging over you. You needed to build a team without having to worry. And well, now you know, don’t you?” Coach gave everyone a very big ‘conversation over’ smile and clasped her hands behind her back. “Now go and do some warmups! Karasuno should be getting here in about an hour, and I want everyone ready to go when they arrive! Kyoutani and Yahaba, make sure not to push yourself too hard, I want that pitching arm intact and ready to go when we start. That means no fast pitches, got it?”

 

Kyoutani looked ready to protest for about a second before weathering under Coaches harsh gaze. The team dispersed, and Kyoutani and Yahaba headed off to the pitching mound to warm up.

 

When Karasuno did arrive, they did so on a big black bus that just screamed  **_intimidation_ ** the second it rolled into the parking lot near the baseball diamond. Yahaba caught a pitch from Kyoutani in the firm center of his glove and looked up in time to see the stream of players exiting the bus. Ah yes, there's the guy with the shaved head from last year, the cleanup hitter with the blonde streak hanging off of him, tall yellow first baseman following with the outfielder with the greenish hair sticking close behind him. Last off was Hinata and Kageyama, the only two players whose names Yahaba actually knew and the freak battery of Karasuno that made everyone lose their shit. Kageyama looked about ready to kill a man (which wasn’t very unusual as far as Yahaba could tell) and Hinata was hanging off of his jacket sleeve, orange hair a complete mess and voice so loud Yahaba could hear snatches of what he was saying from where he was.

 

Kyoutani suddenly appeared beside Yahaba, startling him a bit. His brow was furrowed and his lips were drawn back in a snarl. “So,” he spat, digging the spikes of his cleats into the dirt, “Which one of them are the freak battery everyone's so fucking worried about?”

 

“The orange one over their is the pitcher, and the guy he’s hanging off of is the catcher. Hinata and Kageyama. Even as first years, they had incredible chemistry.”

 

Kyoutani squints his eyes, studying them. “They don’t look like much.”

 

Yahaba sighs. “Trust me, they’re a lot better than they look.”

 

Coach calls everyone into a circle and stands in the middle, looking at her significantly less frazzled team with a sense of pride. Now that everyone's gotten over the initial shock of playing against Karasuno, there is an undercurrent of competitiveness, a desire to make Karasuno pay for the Summer Cup last summer, Yahaba notices.    
  


“Alright kids, I know that we had a rough start to the season with Shinji hanging us out to dry as a pitcher, but now we have Kyoutani,” Coach gestured towards him and Yahaba noticed Kyoutani blush a bit and stare very intensely at the ground, “Who I think is a hell of a lot better than Shinji as a pitcher anyways, so we’re off to a good start. We have a good team, and a set of good people and I think you are all more than capable of giving Karasuno more than they bargained for today.” Coach suddenly turned towards Yahaba, catching him off guard. “And if our wonderful team captain would like to say anything before we start the game today?”

 

Yahaba sputtered for second. He had completely forgotten about this part and Yahaba franticly tried to think back to what Oikawa would say to the team before games. Rehashed shit about teamwork and friendship that he somehow made inspiring because Oikawa was a charmer and could make anything sound good if he tried hard enough. 

 

“I, uh, I guess, just remember what we’ve been working on these last few weeks? Building up our compatibility as a team, making sure we can communicate on the field alright, and just to remember that Karasuno is no different than any other team we play- we can beat them if we are on our game today, so if we stay focused and stay vigilant, we’ll be just fine!”

 

It was a little scattered, but it would do. Coach screamed a few more words of encouragement and then sent them off to get ready to play. 

 

As they headed off, Kyoutani caught Yahaba’s eye and grinned, something somewhere in between feral and charming and gestured towards the pitching mound.

 

The smile made Yahaba heart skip a beat and even as he followed Kyoutani and spotted Kageyama and Hinata bickering out of the corner of his eye as Kageyama tugged on his catcher's gear, the thought that the team would be just fine lingered with him.

 

It's just a practice game after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> did anyone catch that prince of tennis refrence in there because o boy am i going to need the strength of Ryoma to get through my early morning tennis practice tommorw.
> 
> comments and kudos are always appreciated! they really help with my motivation to write- i'll try to update every week or so, but i'll let yall know if ill be gone longer than that.
> 
> you can scream with me about gay sports @ mysenpaiisdead on tumblr and twitter


End file.
